


Prism (the Dirty Hands remix)

by fleshlycherry



Series: Prism Series [2]
Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-26
Updated: 2011-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleshlycherry/pseuds/fleshlycherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A remix of section <em>v.</em> of Prism.  Mal doesn't always come out of the war a <strike>Great</strike> <strike>Good</strike> Alright man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prism (the Dirty Hands remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jebbypal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jebbypal/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Prism](https://archiveofourown.org/works/204569) by [fleshlycherry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleshlycherry/pseuds/fleshlycherry). 



> Written 2004/2005. Not really sure :s

_v._ (Dirty Hands remix)

In the House on Sihnon they tell you that the physical does not matter. And it doesn’t. Unless he’s big and you’re dry.

Look for beauty in everything; that was the important lesson. Focus on that single red hair on the brown head, not on the rank, unwashed smell of his body. Strive to perceive the inner light of every person who crosses your path.

Men who have to pay for sex have no inner light, often outer light in spades, but nothing on the inside.

He is pounding into her harder now and it’s becoming difficult to let her mind wander. Heat friction and his belt buckle digging into her hip because he didn’t undress. After all, you do not need to be naked to have sex. His rhythm is failing; the dirty hand on her breast squeezes too tight through her satin bodice.

One...twothree...four. Five.

And it’s over. His face rests against the crook of her neck for just a moment, his body still and calm. She thinks that maybe there is a slight flicker deep inside, but knows that she’s just teasing herself. He pushes clumsily to his feet and she too rises because she is a Companion and she is dignified. She smoothes her skirt back over bruised hips and can feel the liquid heat rush out of her.

“We’re agreed then?”

“That we are Ambassador.” His florid bow mocking, “One quater less my asking price.”


End file.
